About
A little more than two years ago, I knew little-to-nothing about Jane Eyre. Back then, it was just another classic novel. I assumed it was a period drama and nothing more.
At that time, before everything changed, there were two things that lead me to where I am now: My love for romance and my interest in Timothy Dalton. After my most recent Timmy-D movie binge, I came across several screenshots on Pinterest that revealed my favorite ex-007 gorgeously dressed in period garb, a small woman often by his side. This was Dalton’s portrayal of Mr. Rochester in a BBC adaptation of Jane Eyre. “Handsome guy. Period Romance?” I thought, “Let’s do this.”
At that time, before everything changed, there were two things that lead me to where I am now: My love for romance and my interest in Timothy Dalton. After my most recent Timmy-D movie binge, I came across several screenshots on Pinterest that revealed my favorite ex-007 gorgeously dressed in period garb, a small woman often by his side. This was Dalton’s portrayal of Mr. Rochester in a BBC adaptation of Jane Eyre. “Handsome guy. Period Romance?” I thought, “Let’s do this.”
Going into this story blind was the best thing I could have done. I was expecting a slow-burn romance, heavy with romantic-tension and heated glances across the parlor. And let me tell you, Jane Eyre delivers on all accounts.
What I wasn’t expecting were ghosts, excessive gas-lighting, cross-dressing and possibly the greatest “I object!” moment in a wedding ever conceived. When your sexy love interest reveals that, surprise! He’s been married this whole time and, double surprise! His wife is a mad woman whom he keeps locked in the attic of the house where you’ve been living and working. Let’s just say, I was knocked completely off my feet.
Since then I’ve re-watched the Timothy Dalton version multiple times, shared my bewilderment about the plot to many a friend and family member, and have gone on to watch three other versions of Jane Eyre. So, as the credits were rolling at the end of the 2011 movie adaptation, I thought to myself, “You know what, I’ve come this far. Might as well watch them all.”
Thankfully I’m not alone. One of my best and oldest friends, Lillian Cotter, has agreed to join me on my quest into deepest adaptation. Her’s will be the voice of reason that attempts to guide me through the fog of this bizarre obsession.
What I wasn’t expecting were ghosts, excessive gas-lighting, cross-dressing and possibly the greatest “I object!” moment in a wedding ever conceived. When your sexy love interest reveals that, surprise! He’s been married this whole time and, double surprise! His wife is a mad woman whom he keeps locked in the attic of the house where you’ve been living and working. Let’s just say, I was knocked completely off my feet.
Since then I’ve re-watched the Timothy Dalton version multiple times, shared my bewilderment about the plot to many a friend and family member, and have gone on to watch three other versions of Jane Eyre. So, as the credits were rolling at the end of the 2011 movie adaptation, I thought to myself, “You know what, I’ve come this far. Might as well watch them all.”
Thankfully I’m not alone. One of my best and oldest friends, Lillian Cotter, has agreed to join me on my quest into deepest adaptation. Her’s will be the voice of reason that attempts to guide me through the fog of this bizarre obsession.
For every episode, we will watch a version of Jane Eyre and then meet to rate and review it. This podcast will chronicle our findings and document our insanity as we attempt to watch as many adaptations of this classic and buck-wild story as we can.
Our apologies in advance for what you’re about to hear.
Our apologies in advance for what you’re about to hear.